


Love You to the Bones

by BasilHellward



Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Chas taking care of John, Eating Disorders, Fainting, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Smoking, Wordcount: 500-1.000, did u know eating disorders can stem from neglectful childhoods?, this is not cheery, ventfic ...again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasilHellward/pseuds/BasilHellward
Summary: TRIGGER WARNING: EATING DISORDERJohn's always been a skinny, somewhat malnourished-looking bloke, but lately it's more pronounced. He doesn't think much of it. Tells himself he's just been too busy, has a cigarette when his stomach growls its objection.





	Love You to the Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Title's from Silverchair's 'Ana's Song (Open Fire).' Unbeta'd, please point out any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcome, but please bear in mind this fic is based on my own personal experiences and I'd appreciate it if any criticism focused on the style of writing and such, not on the subject matter.
> 
> If you suspect you may be developing or already have an eating disorder, I strongly recommend seeking help. I know it's hard, but even just talking to someone you trust can help a lot!

John's always been a skinny, somewhat malnourished-looking bloke, but lately it's more pronounced. He doesn't think much of it. Tells himself he's just been too busy, has a cigarette when his stomach growls its objection. Sometimes he simply forgets to eat until Chas puts a plate down in front of him or Zed suggests they stop for a bite. Neither of them say anything, so he keeps on thinking it's nothing.

John doesn't care what he looks like — at least that's what he tells himself — but counts the calories anyway. 

He's become a fussy eater — something he used to despise. 

He can't sit at the table and eat with other people anymore. 

He can't remember the last time he had more than a slice of toast.

John's clothes hang from him, baggy in all the wrong places. He hides his body under his trench-coat and doesn't look in mirrors, knowing the face that looks back at him will not be the face he remembers. Cheeks too hollow, skin too pale with dark bags under dull eyes. Not only do his hips jut out, but so do his ribs. Spine too, when he bends.

John stares at his ugly body, finding more flaws the longer he does, hating how he looks. He's pathetic. He doesn't deserve to eat. He deserves to keep suffering. John runs a hand through his hair. It comes away with brittle blond strands stuck to it.

He stops letting Chas touch him. Chas tries to hide how much it bothers him, but John catches his hurt, kicked-puppy look every single time. The only thing worse than food and hunger is feeling like he's disappointed Chas. It eats away at his insides. So, true to form, John doesn't tell Chas what's really going on. Why he flinches away from his hands as if Chas' touch will burn him.

At that point, John had known it was bad. Maybe was even willing to admit he might have a problem. The full weight of that problem doesn't sink in until he keels over one day, weak joints and dizzy head unwilling to hold him up any longer. But it doesn't matter, because Chas is. He catches John under the arms as he falls to the floor, lies him down on a couch and sits with him till he comes to.

The concern and love in Chas' eyes is overwhelming, and John has to look away. He folds in on himself, making himself even scarcer. Wishes he could disappear. Chas, because he's Chas, seems to sense that John needs to be alone. That John isn't going to talk about it, not right now. He leans forward and presses a lingering kiss to John's forehead before he leaves the room.

They don't talk about it for another week. John's bones ache and he's dizzy even sitting. Chas stands behind John, currently slumped over the table in the middle of the mill. He places his hands on John's bony shoulders and pulls him back against his chest. John sighs heavily through his nose, too tired to protest. Resigned to having this conversation.

He's expecting a lecture but all Chas says is, "I think you should get some help, John."

"Yeah," John says, swallowing thickly. "Yeah, I think you're prob'ly right, mate."

He leans back against Chas, soaking up the warmth his own body can't generate. He has the ridiculous thought, truly believes it for a second, that this all could've been avoided if he'd only let Chas hug him close and tell him everything's alright. But that isn't the case. It isn't that easy, nothing ever is.

"I..." 

Chas trails off, thinking better of it. John still hears the unspoken _love you_. He's never understood it when Chas says that to him, but he must bloody mean it if he's stuck around this long.

"Hang in there, kid," he says instead, leaning down to kiss the crown of John's head. John nods against his lips. He can do that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you thought, and kudos is also greatly appreciated :)


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